The black bus slowed, gliding out of the tunnel of light. Its iron wheels screeched as it came to a halt on a vast courtyard of dark stone.
When the door creaked open, the heavy sound of hooves echoed across the square. But these were no ordinary steeds—before the children stood a silver carriage drawn by four fiery-black horses, their eyes glowing red, their breath steaming like smoke from the pit of hell.
"Step out. Follow the path," came a deep voice, though no driver was in sight.
One by one, the orphans descended, Caelum among them. The air outside was cold, biting to the bone. They were ushered toward the carriage, and as soon as they climbed aboard, the wheels began to turn on their own, carrying them forward through a colossal gate of stone.
Above the arch, carved in blazing Latin, the words read:
"Academia Arcanum Sanctum – In Nomine Luminis et Umbrae."
(In the Name of Light and Shadow).
The carriage ascended a winding road, climbing higher and higher through veils of mist. In the distance, they finally beheld it—a towering castle upon the highlands, its spires clawing at the sky, windows glowing faintly with candlelight, all surrounded by an endless black forest.
"It looks like… a kingdom," one child whispered in awe.
Caelum swallowed hard, his heart racing. To him, it felt less like a kingdom and more like a destiny waiting to be claimed.
At last, the carriage rolled to a stop before a grand iron gate, engraved with crosses intertwined with an eight-pointed star. The gates creaked open to reveal a courtyard lined with statues of saints and robed knights.
And there, before the towering doors of the castle, stood a figure that made the children gasp.
A centaur, half man, half horse—tall and broad, with a thick beard and piercing eyes. In his hand he held a long scroll of parchment.
"Welcome, new students," his voice boomed, both harsh and noble. "I am Magister Chiron. I will record your arrival."
One by one, the names were called. Nervous voices answered back.
Then—
"Caelum… Dominic."
Chiron's voice faltered. His stern gaze froze on the name. For the first time, his hand trembled as he clutched the scroll.
"Dominic…?" he muttered, almost too quietly. "That bloodline…"
The other children glanced at each other, confused by his sudden change of tone.
Caelum stepped forward hesitantly. "S-sir… is something wrong with my name?"
Chiron bent his towering frame down, his eyes narrowing as though peering into Caelum's very soul.
"No, boy. Not wrong… far too right."
He rolled the scroll closed with a snap, then bowed his head—something he had not done for a single other child.
"Welcome, heir of Dominicus Sanctior—the Great Exorcist, the slayer of the ancient demon."
Gasps rippled through the group. Caelum stood frozen, his mind reeling. He had never known anything of such a heritage. And yet, in that moment, it felt as though the weight of an entire forgotten war had been set upon his shoulders.
The iron gates groaned open, and Magister Chiron led the children across the vast courtyard. Caelum's eyes widened. Beyond the main castle, the place was no single building—it was an entire complex of learning.
To the left rose the lower academy, built like an ancient monastery, its sharp rooftops crowned with black crosses. To the right, the upper academy resembled a Gothic cathedral, its tall stained-glass windows glowing with shifting colors from within. And far in the distance, dominating the skyline, stood the university towers, their spires shrouded in crows.
Two other great buildings stood side by side—the boys' dormitory and the girls' dormitory—linked to the castle proper by stone bridges.
"This… is bigger than I ever imagined," Caelum whispered to himself, breathless.
The group was finally brought inside the Hall of Welcome. Its ceiling soared like a cathedral's vault, painted with saints, angels, and silver-armored knights battling horned demons. Hundreds of candles floated midair, burning steady without a hint of smoke.
At the far end of the hall, upon a dais of black marble, stood a tall figure. His long robe was white, embroidered with gold. In one hand he held a silver staff topped with a radiant cross. His eyes were sharp yet full of strange calm.
Magister Chiron bowed deeply.
"Children, behold—Archmagister Aurelius, Head of the Academia Arcanum Sanctum."
The man raised his staff slightly, and silence fell instantly.
"Welcome, chosen ones," his voice thundered through the hall. "From this day forth, you no longer belong to the fleeting world of mortals. You are children of the Academia—guardians of light standing against the shadow. May your names be remembered among the faithful… and not among the traitors who sell themselves to darkness."
The words sent a shiver through every heart.
After the ceremony, senior overseers guided the new students through the endless corridors of the castle. The stones themselves seemed alive, glowing faintly with inner light.
Caelum walked quietly, stealing glances through the tall windows. The sight outside made his pulse race:
In the side courtyard, university students were practicing, conjuring flames and winds with their bare hands alone. The elements danced at their command, like puppets on invisible strings.
Further out, upper academy students stood in rows across a training field, each wielding a wand of black oak. Their Latin chants echoed as sparks of fire shot from the tips.
Near the shadowed forest, younger pupils struggled to form glowing crosses of light with trembling fingers, their first lesson in sanctified magic.
Caelum froze for a moment. The world he had only glimpsed in his dreams… was alive before him.
"See that?" whispered the blonde girl from the bus, walking beside him. "When they no longer need wands, they're called Arcani—true masters of the elements. We… we're not even close."
Caelum nodded slowly, yet his eyes never left the scene outside. Somewhere deep within, beyond fear, beyond wonder… he felt something stir.